


You Don't Have To Keep Me Falling Like This (But It'd Sure Be Cool If You Did)

by jdrush



Series: Doing It To Country Songs [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Humour, M/M, Modern AU, a cute dog that took over the story, a little bit of romance, and a lot of desserts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: Rafael Vasquez gives Joshua Faraday another chance to prove he's the World's Greatest Lover.  Takes place one week after “Your Lips Taste Like Sangria”, which can be found here:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493167
Relationships: Joshua Faraday/Vasquez
Series: Doing It To Country Songs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1475423
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	You Don't Have To Keep Me Falling Like This (But It'd Sure Be Cool If You Did)

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: PG-13, mostly for language (sorry guys, I'm trying)  
> DISCLAIMERS: I don't own these characters, and I made no profit from this story. Title comes from a Blake Shelton song, because why mess with a good thing?  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on my previous Faraday/Vasquez stories. I hope you enjoy this one as well. All Spanish comes from Google Translate. Also, I don't know anything about professional photographers, so I made up whatever sounded good and fit the story.  
> AUTHOR'S NOTES PART DOS: A special shout out to my beta, my editor, my cheerleader, and my dear friend, Michele. She did so much to help me with this story, and I am so very grateful.

*Translations are in parentheses

Rafael Vasquez whistled a cheerful tune as he jogged up the stairs to Joshua's fourth floor apartment, careful not to jostle the box he was holding. After all, he had a lot of reasons to be happy. He had just been given a new photo assignment he was excited about. He had spent the last few weeks re-connecting with one of his oldest friends—and making some new ones along the way. And tonight he was having dinner with a hot, funny guy.

Life was good.

Certainly better than it had been just last year. Coming off of yet another failed relationship, he had finally walked away from the world of international fashion photography to take a job with Yankee Magazine. Nature had always been his true passion, and he hoped that a change of scenery and a more stable environment would do him good. But he quickly discovered that while taking photos of quaint New England towns and pretty fall foliage paid the bills, he really couldn't see himself doing it for the rest of his life. He had reached a crossroads with no idea where to turn.

Fate came calling in the mail one day when he received a letter from Paragon Press. He had done some freelance work for them in the past, but now they were interested in publishing an entire book of his desert photographs. It was an offer he couldn't refuse. Within a week he had quit his steady, boring job, packed up everything he owned (including by that point his beloved horse, Maria), and made his way to Arizona.

Best decision of his life.

Things only got better when, a few months later, Fate came knocking again, this time with a wedding e-vite from Emma Stanton. They had been the best of friends all through college, but drifted apart after graduation, as Rafe's career kept him constantly on the move. Over the years they had managed to meet up only a handful of times, and while phone calls and emails were great for keeping in touch, they were no substitute for actual in-person interaction. With his current assignment wrapping up, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to change that. He hated leaving Arizona, but perhaps a new adventure awaited him and Maria in California.

Emma was delighted to have her friend so close again, and while the weeks leading up to the wedding were busy for them both—Emma with all her planning, Rafe with moving into his new condo—they still made time to get together every Wednesday for lunch and gossip. One week she brought along her fiancé, Matthew Cullen, and after a five-course Mexican meal and a pitcher of Margaritas, Rafe had stood up on his chair and drunkenly proclaimed to the entire restaurant that Matt was 'worthy' of Emma—something she found utterly hilarious.

When the big day finally arrived, Rafe may have been even more excited than the bride. He loved weddings, especially when they involved someone who was so dear to him. All the pageantry, everyone coming together to celebrate love and happiness and a new beginning. Plus there was cake, which was always a bonus. Still being relatively new in town, he had wound up going stag, but since so many of the guests turned out to be old college friends, he wasn't really alone. Emma had looked absolutely stunning, of course, and he was overjoyed to see her so happy and in love, but if you were to ask him, Rafe would tell you that his lasting memory of that day was of the handsome man with the bright green eyes and the rakish smile that spelled out nothing but trouble.

Rafael Vasquez liked trouble.

After a halfhearted warning from Emma ('He's a handful, Vas.' 'Actually, I hope he's more than handful, Ems.' 'Good Lord, you two were made for each other.') and a quick introduction, he was soon chatting up one Joshua Faraday. Rafe told himself he wasn't looking for romance. A quick tumble with the cute guy you just met at your friend's wedding might seem a bit clichéd, but it sounded fun, and it's not like Rafe had been lucky in the romance department anyway. But Fate had one last laugh in store for him as Josh unexpectedly asked him on a date instead.

He still can't say why he agreed to it. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe Josh amused him. Maybe he was just a hopeless romantic who still believed he could have his own happily ever after someday. Whatever the reason, he gave Josh his phone number, and crossed his fingers he'd get a call.

That first date had gone better than Rafe could have hoped. Good company and good food made a great combination (while he might have been the one who cooked the meal, he wasn't above patting himself on the back for a job well done) and if the evening had ended with a kiss at the front door and not a roll in the sheets, well, it was a pleasant change, actually. “Let's go slow,” Josh had suggested, a concept both so intriguing and so foreign to Rafe that he couldn't help but be charmed.

Though if he was being honest, he really hoped it wouldn't be TOO slow.

As he approached Josh's apartment, Rafe could hear Bob Seger's 'Old Time Rock and Roll' playing through the door. For a moment, he pictured Josh dancing around his living room in a pair of BVD's like Tom Cruise in 'Risky Business'—something he'd bet his last dime that the man had done at least once in his life. Shaking his head in amusement at the image, he rang the doorbell, which set off a series of loud, sharp barks from Josh's dog, Maria.

“Coming!” Josh called out.

 _Not without me_ , Rafe thought, as the music cut off, and a few moments later, the door opened. The vision that greeted him was even more mouth-watering than the tantalizing aroma of spicy chili that filled the air. Unshaven, hair still damp from a recent shower, and dressed in wrinkled tan cargo pants and a faded plaid flannel shirt that was buttoned haphazardly, Josh looked soft and rumpled like he had just rolled out of bed.

In a word, perfect.

“Hola!” Rafe exclaimed with a big grin.

There was a slightly panicked expression on Josh's face as he practically shouted, “You're not supposed to be here!”

Rafe felt his smile falter. That wasn't quite the greeting he had been expecting. Did he get the night wrong? Did Josh change his mind? Or worse—did he have a date with someone else tonight? “I'm not?” he asked, hesitantly.

“No. Yes. I mean. . .you're early!” Josh stammered, obviously flustered.

Glancing at his watch, Rafe saw that he was, in fact, about a half-hour early. Huh. Guess he must've been in a hurry to see Josh again. Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he offered, “I can come back later, if you want.”

“NO!” Josh exclaimed, emphatically. “I just meant. . .” He sighed as he ran his hand through his already messy curls, which made him look even more disheveled and delectable and Rafe had to squash the urge to just tackle him right there in the hallway. “The day got away from me and I'm running late so I’m still getting ready.”

The smile returned to Rafe's face. “You trying to be pretty for me, guero?” he teased.

“Screw you, I'm already pretty,” Josh shot back with a smirk. “It's just I had a nice outfit picked out for tonight.”

“You look fine,” Rafe reassured him. “See? I dressed down, too.” With a flick of his wrist, he pulled open his cashmere Burberry top-coat to show he was wearing black distressed jeans and a vintage Santana concert tee-shirt.

That got a laugh out of Josh. “Why do I have the feeling that coat cost more than my first car?”

“Probably,” Rafe agreed.

Josh rolled his eyes. “Asshole. Get in here, will ya?” And if someone had ever told Rafe he'd be on a date with a guy who called him 'asshole' as a term of endearment, he would have thought they were crazy. Yet, here he was, and he couldn't be happier.

As Josh closed the door behind them, he asked, “You have a good trip?”

Oh, right. What with all the daily meetings with his editors, and the nightly get-togethers with his East Coast friends, he and Josh had only exchanged a few short texts, so Josh didn't know his good news yet. “Maravilloso (wonderful)!” Rafe replied, enthusiastically. “The publishing house is planning a book celebrating America's National Parks, and they gave me the Yellowstone assignment!”

A confused furrow creased Josh's forehead as he asked, “Is that where Yogi Bear lives?”

Rafe snickered. “That's Jellystone Park, you silly man.”

Ducking his head, Josh let out a loud, nervous laugh. “Right. Yeah. I knew that. I was just joking with you.” The laugh morphed into a pained groan as he caught a glimpse of his shirt. “Aw hell, why didn't you tell me this was buttoned wrong?” he complained, his fingers scrambling to fix the problem.

 _Because you're an adorable disaster_ , Rafe thought fondly but didn't say. Instead, he held out the box, emblazoned with a Junior's logo, that he had guarded with his life for over 3000 miles. “I brought you a gift. Real New York cheesecake.”

Shirt now buttoned properly—much to Rafe's disappointment—Josh took the box with a grin. “Because what's dinner without dessert, right?”

“You're learning.” At that moment, a small brown and white blur came charging around the corner, and crashed into Josh's shin.

“Oooof! Watch it, brat!” Josh scolded, playfully. “And no running in the house. You know the rules.”

 _Ahhhh. . .the famous Maria_ , Rafe thought, watching the energetic 8-month old beagle pup yipping to get Josh's attention. This was a very important meeting for him, and he had been both looking forward to it and dreading it. Having been in a couple of relationships that ended badly because of pet-boyfriend incompatibility, Rafe knew if he was going to have any chance with Josh, he had to get Maria on his side, even if it meant a little bit of cheating.

All's fair in love and war, right?

Decision made, he dropped to his knees, not caring that his expensive coat was brushing against the floor, and asked, “Who is this lovely little lady?”

Hearing a new voice, Maria turned away from Josh and began excitedly jumping all over Rafe. “Down, Maria!” Josh commanded, but she paid him little heed. “C'mon, you know not to do that!” Realizing his words weren't having any effect, he threw his hands up in frustration and bemoaned, “I'm so sorry. She's usually better behaved than this.”

“No, no, it's all good,” Rafe laughed, as Maria licked at his face. “She just wants to make a new friend.” As he spoke, he pulled a puppy treat from his coat pocket and held it out to her. That finally got Maria's attention as she snapped it up and yapped happily. “Who's a sweet girl?” he cooed, scratching under her chin, and causing her whole body to quiver with joy.

By the knowing grin on Josh's face, he had figured out Rafe's game, but didn't call him out on it. “Thanks for spoiling her,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Now she's gonna expect treats all the time.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Rafe said, as Maria started nosing around his pocket looking for another snack. “Everybody deserves a treat once in a while.”

“Is that your motto in life?”

“Life is short. Why deny yourself something that will make you happy?”

“Are we still talking about cheesecake?”

“Of course,” Rafe replied with a guileless smile. “What else would we be talking about?”

Josh just gave him an odd look. “Right. Well then, I better get this,” indicating the box he was holding, “into the fridge.” And with that, he headed off to the kitchen.

Rafe gave Maria one last scritch behind her ears before he stood up. He took a moment to remove his coat and hang it on a peg by the door, then started to trail after Josh. The tell-tale clicking of puppy-paws on the hardwood floor behind him said someone else had the same idea. Turning around, he bent down and gave her another quick pet. “Quedate, pequeña (stay, little one),” he directed, before continuing his trek to the kitchen and doing his best to ignore her sad little whimpers.

Upon entering the room, Rafe's gaze was drawn to a small cloth-covered card table pressed against the wall, set with a rose in a beer bottle and two tea-light candles just waiting to be lit. The sight made him smile. Josh was really going all out for this night, and Rafe was starting to regret that he had arrived early. It would have been worth the few extra minutes to see Josh in his 'special outfit'.

This wasn't the first time Rafe had been wooed, of course. While not a vain man, he knew he was good-looking, and had never lacked for attention from both men and women alike. But he doubted he had ever been wooed like this, so awkward yet so sincere. The way Josh kept trying to win him over was very sweet, if unnecessary. Rafe was already his—all Josh had to do was reel him in.

At the moment, however, it seemed Josh had other things on his mind.

“Dammit,” he muttered, as he pulled a large foil covered serving dish out of the refrigerator and put it on the counter next to a bunch of other similar platters. “I need a bigger fridge.”

“What's all this?” Rafe asked, gesturing at the cluttered counter.

Josh carefully placed the cheesecake box on the top shelf of the fridge before answering Rafe's question. “I made the mistake of telling Emma you were coming over tonight for dinner and she was afraid your sweet-tooth would suffer since I'm apparently a complete fuck-up, so she called in the troops.” Pointing to each item in turn, he recited, “The red-velvet cupcakes are from her, the brandy-soaked pecan pie is from Goody, the peach cobbler came from Jack's wife, Leni, Billy made the brownies—which I'm pretty sure have a special added ingredient, if you catch my drift, so consume with caution—the carrot cake is from Sam, and this huge bread pudding,” motioning to the serving dish he had just removed from the fridge, “ is courtesy of Red.”

A warmth bloomed in Rafe's chest. He expected no less from Emma, but the rest of it was such a pleasant surprise. “Your friends did all of this for me?” he asked, moved by their generosity. He didn't even know any of them besides Goody, and even that friendship was still fairly new.

“Well, they're your friends now, too. Mi casa es su casa, right?”

Rafe chuckled. “Not even close, and your pronunciation is awful, but I get what you mean.” He picked up an open package of Oreos that were sitting in the middle of all the delicacies. “And who are these from?”

“I didn't say Emma was wrong not to trust me.”

 _But you tried_ , Rafe thought, and honestly, a bag of store-bought cookies shouldn't make him so happy but they did.

 _Be careful, Vas_ , a little voice in the back of his head whispered. _It's too soon to be falling for him. This is only your second date. . ._

 _Third_ , Rafe argued back.

 _An aborted blowjob in a coat closet doesn't count,_ the voice insisted. _Besides, you're supposed to be going slow, remember?_

Right. Slow. Why did he ever agree to that? In an attempt to shut the voice up, Rafe stepped over to the stove. “Well, it seems like you did okay with dinner. It smells delicioso (delicious).”

“Watch out,” Josh warned. “Oven's on.”

“Why?” A quick peek through the window revealed something browning nicely in a metal baking pan. “What is that?”

“Cornbread. It goes good with the chili.”

“You baked for me, guero? I think I'm in love. ” Rafe said it as a joke, but he was genuinely touched. After all, even HE didn't bake for Josh last time.

“It's just a box-mix,” Josh told him, seemingly embarrassed by Rafe's reaction. “No need to break out the wedding invitations.”

“Of course not. I still haven't tasted it yet.”

Josh grabbed a clean spoon out of the dish rack and handed it over. “Help yourself.”

Never one to turn down free food, Rafe lifted the lid and dipped the spoon into the pot. Blowing on the chili to cool it off, he popped it into his mouth, moaning happily as the heat and the spices burst over his tongue. “Oh yeah, it's definitely love.”

“It's even better with beer.” Opening the fridge again, Josh passed over a cold bottle of Coors. “Here.”

“Gracias.” Rafe had just twisted the cap off when there was a sudden loud crash from one of the other rooms. “That didn't sound good.”

“I don't even want to know,” Josh groaned as he ran out of the kitchen, Rafe on his heels. They quickly discovered the source of the noise in the living room, where Maria was sitting, looking guilty and miserable, next to the remains of a broken lamp on the floor. Poor girl.

“MIMI!” Josh exclaimed. “What's gotten into you tonight?!”

“Mimi?” Rafe repeated with a smirk.

Josh whirled around and pointed a finger at him. “Not a word out of you. This is all your fault, stuffing her full of treats!”

“It was one treat,” Rafe corrected.

“I said not a word!”

Rafe just shrugged and sipped at his beer, watching in amusement while Josh crouched down and attempted to reprimand his dog, a venture doomed to fail as he kept stopping to comfort her and checking repeatedly to make sure she wasn't injured. The way a person treats an animal can tell you a lot about them, and it was clear to Rafe that Joshua Faraday was a good man with a kind heart.

Either that, or he was just a complete marshmallow when it came to Maria.

“It's all right, Meems,” he whispered soothingly to her, his hand gently stroking along her back. “It was just a lamp, and I didn't like it much anyway.” And with those words, Rafe felt his fondness for Josh grow a little bit stronger.

 _You're not listening to me!_ the little voice shouted.

 _No, I'm not!_ Rafe shouted back.

Kneeling down beside the pair, Rafe asked, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, no cuts or anything,” Josh replied, as he checked over her paws. “I think she's just a bit shook up.” He pushed himself up off the floor and scooped Maria into his arms. “Be back in a sec. I'm just gonna put this one someplace she can't get into any trouble.”

Rafe just grinned. “Good luck with that.”

Josh shot him a dirty look as he walked out of the room, cuddling Maria close to his chest. “Don't listen to him, sweetheart. He's just being a big meanie.”

While Josh was gone, Rafe carefully picked up some of the bigger pieces of the broken ceramic lamp and placed them on the coffee table. In the next room he could hear Josh opening and closing cupboard doors, obviously looking for something to clean up the mess. Figuring there was nothing more he could do to help, Rafe stood up and took the opportunity to give the living room a closer inspection.

It was smaller than his own living room—which was to be expected—and the décor could best be described as 'early American Man-Cave'. The furniture, while in good condition, was mismatched and obviously chosen for comfort and/or price over aesthetic. A beautiful pair of antique pearl-handled peacemakers, mounted on a plaque, hung in a place of honor above the sofa; the inscribed gold plate told Rafe it was a trophy from a poker tournament Josh had won. On either side of the plaque were two framed movie posters--one for 'The Terminator' and the other for 'The Wild Bunch'. In one corner of the room sat a Seattle Seahawks doggie bed while a bench press and a set of weights were positioned in another. The bookcases held more DVD's than books _(who knew there were so many “Fast and Furious” movies!)_ , and the stacked wooden crates filled with vinyl records set up next to a top-notch stereo system spoke of a man with a great love of music.

Noticeably absent were any photos of family or friends, which made Rafe feel inexplicably sad.

“Are you always so nosy?” Josh asked, as he returned to the room, dust pan and brush in hand.

Rafe turned away from his perusal of the albums and flashed Josh a huge grin. “I prefer the term 'inquisitive'.”

“Whatever, weirdo,” Josh chuckled, as he knelt down and began sweeping up the debris.

“So, do you actually use that or is it just for decoration?”

Josh looked up from his task to see Rafe pointing at the bench press. “I use it occasionally. It's handy when I can't get to the gym.”

“What can you lift?”

“Dunno,” Josh said, his attention back to his sweeping. “220. 225, I guess.”

“Huh. I weigh 182.”

“And you're telling me that. . .why?”

Rafe shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Just small talk. Getting to know each other. Might come in handy someday.”

A faint blush stained Josh's cheeks as he concentrated on his cleaning. “Right. Yeah. Good.”

It took everything in Rafe's power not to laugh. Josh was so much fun to tease, something Rafe had quickly discovered, and exploited gleefully. Deciding to tease the poor guy just a little more, he commented, “I had no idea they could be so big,” letting his glance sweep over the front of Josh’s pants as he said it.

Stopping in mid-sweep, Josh looked up at Rafe and asked, hesitantly, “Uh, what now?”

“Gotta be the biggest I've ever seen, and I've seen a few.”

The blush grew brighter as Josh looked like he wanted to cover his crotch with the dust pan. “Well, uh. . .”

Rafe suddenly turned and gestured to the 72-inch TV set up on across from the sofa. “I do love a man with a big screen.”

“Oh, that!” Josh exclaimed, obviously relieved. “I thought you meant . . . um. . .”

Rafe just smirked, letting Josh know he understood exactly what he had been thinking. _You're such a bad man, Rafael Vasquez_. “Must've cost you a pretty penny.”

Sitting back on his haunches, Josh replied more calmly, “What can I say? You have a horse. I have a kick-ass entertainment center. Priorities, right?”

“I suppose but why would anyone need such a big TV?”

“How else are you going to watch 'Die Hard'?” Josh said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What's that?” Rafe asked, playing dumb, interested to see Josh's reaction.

It was even better than he could have imagined, as Josh gave a scandalized gasp and clutched at his chest like a maligned Southern Belle. “Are you saying you've never seen 'Die Hard'?”

Rafe pretended to mull the question over for a moment or two before replying, “I don't think so. Is it an HBO documentary?”

By this point, Josh was gaping at him in disbelief. “Bruce Willis? Alan Rickman? 'Yippee ki-yay motherfucker'?”

“Ohhh! Yes. I've heard that expression before,” Rafe said, as if he finally understood what Josh was talking about. “Is that where it comes from?”

“That's it,” Josh declared as he stood up. “I know what we're doing after dinner. No way I'm dating a guy who's never seen the best movie ever made!”

Okay, not quite what Rafe would have planned for tonight, but it had been a while since he had seen it, and watching it with Josh was bound to be fun. “Well, it's not a date until you've fed me,” he hinted with a grin.

“You know, you've got a one-track mind,” Josh observed as he headed down the hall with the dustpan. “Go on ahead and grab me a beer. I'm gonna dump this and check on the mutt.”

 _Oh, yeah,_ Rafe thought. _Total marshmallow._

\+ + + + + + + +

Rafael Vasquez hummed a cheerful tune to himself as he watched yet another bad guy die a gruesome, but justified, death. After all, he had a lot of reasons to be happy. He had a full tummy. He had a furry new friend curled up in his lap. And tonight, he was cuddling on a sofa with a hot, funny guy.

Life was good.

“So what do you think of it?” Josh asked, munching on a handful of popcorn.

Still pretending this was the first time he had seen the movie, Rafe replied, “Well, it's pretty good, but it's not very realistic.”

“It's not supposed to be realistic!” Josh disputed. “It's supposed to be fun and loud and stupid.”

“Sounds like some people I know.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark.”

Rafe snickered, and snuggled closer against Josh's shoulder. Just like their first date, the night was going better than expected. After the rocky start of his early arrival and the mishap with Maria and the lamp, things had settled down once dinner was served. The tiny candles Josh had set out didn't give much illumination, so they had been forced to leave the lights on. Still, it was a romantic idea and sometimes it really was the thought that counted.

The meal may have been simple fare, but it was delicious—even the box-mix cornbread Josh had joked about. He regretted going back for a third bowl of chili only because it left him barely enough room to sample a small slice of pecan pie and one of Em's cupcakes for dessert, but seeing how pleased Josh was that he liked his cooking made the decision worth it.

He was definitely grabbing some of that peach cobbler before he left, though.

Conversation between them flowed effortlessly, as it had from day one. Rafe's youngest sister, Isabella, had had her first baby two days earlier, and being a proud uncle he couldn't wait to share the pictures of his new niece, Rosa. Josh, meanwhile, related a tale of his noble—yet ultimately futile—attempt to sweet-talk his way out of a recent speeding ticket, which made Rafe roar with laughter.

Joshua was good at making Rafe laugh.

Mid-way through the meal, Maria had come out of hiding and decided to join them. She had been let out of the bathroom once the living room was deemed safe, but quickly retreated to her doggie bed, presumably still upset about her little misadventure. Hearing Rafe's laughter had brought out her curious nature, however, and soon she was sitting by the table, watching the two men intently, tail wagging in anticipation.

“Ahhh, there's my girl,” Josh had said, reaching down and petting her head affectionately. “Knew she'd come around once she smelled food. You two are alike that way.”

“Very funny.”

“Hey, how do you say 'good dog' in Mexican?”

“Buen perra. And it's Spanish, not Mexican, cabrón.” (bastard.)

“Boon perrya,” Josh repeated. Badly.

Rafe thought he’d never tire of hearing the mangled pronunciation of his language from Josh's lips and wasn't sure if that was a really bad sign. . .or a good one. Pointing at his bowl of chili, he asked, “Can she have some?”

Josh had reached out and grasped his hand, stopping him before he could indulge Maria’s subtle begging. “The spices aren't good for her. Besides, she shouldn't have people food. It's a bad habit to get into.” Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from sneaking her a bit of cornbread when he thought Rafe wasn't looking.

He couldn't WAIT to tell Emma about that!

“Come out to the coast. We'll get together. Have a few laughs,” Josh recited along with Bruce Willis, bringing Rafe back to the movie.

“How many times have you seen this?” Rafe asked with a grin.

“A couple. . .hundred?” Josh answered, somewhat sheepishly. “It's kind of my go-to movie. If I have a bad day. Or a good day. Or I'm drunk. Or I wish I was drunk. It works in all situations. But I usually skip the first half-hour and just jump into the good stuff.”

“The 'blowing stuff up' stuff?”

“Exactly.” Josh glanced over at Maria, sound asleep in Rafe's lap, and frowned. “You know, she's not supposed to be on the sofa.”

“Be nice, she's had a hard day,” Rafe chided him, stroking his hand over her head. “Besides, she's not on the sofa. She's on my lap.”

“One night with you and months of obedience training have gone right out the window.”

Rafe just snorted. “I doubt that's even remotely true.”

Josh rolled his eyes and muttered, “Whatever.”

Kicking playfully at Josh's ankle, Rafe asked, “What's wrong, guero?”

“Nothing.”

Rafe kicked at him again. “Are you jealous your dog likes me, mijo (hon)?” he smirked.

“No,” Josh stated emphatically, although his pout said otherwise. “She's only using you to get more puppy treats anyway.”

Rafe laughed to himself at his companion's obvious lie. For someone who bragged about being a exceptional gambler, Joshua Faraday had a horrible poker face. “Are you upset because you'd rather be the one sitting in my lap?”

And there was that lovely blush again. Rafe didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing it. “Just shut up and watch the movie,” Josh grumbled.

“Of course, I could always sit in YOUR lap, if you prefer,” Rafe suggested.

“I'd prefer to watch the goddamn movie!”

It probably shouldn't be so much fun to rile up the man, but Rafe didn't care. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Okay, okay,” he chuckled. “I promise to shut up if you pass the popcorn.”

“I still can't believe you wanted popcorn when we have enough desserts to open our own bakery.”

“You have to have popcorn with a movie. Everyone knows that.”

“You have an awful lot of rules when it comes to food.”

“I just know what I like.” _Which is why I'm here with you,_ he thought but didn't say. “Popcorn, por favor (please).”

“In a sec. It's starting to get good.”

“Just gimme the bowl.”

“I will. Just hold on.”

Rafe huffed. “Fine. I'll get it myself,” he announced as he leaned over Josh, reaching towards the bowl that was sitting on the end-table.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Josh demanded.

“You put the bowl out of reach,” Rafe complained as he leaned a little further, but he only succeeded in disturbing Maria's rest. She let out a disgruntled yelp as she jumped to the floor, announcing her displeasure to the world. “Lo siento, pequeña (sorry, little one).”

“Yeah, I moved it to keep it away from the dog,” Josh said, as Rafe crawled over him towards his goal. “Jesus, Rafe! Be careful with those elbows! I'm very fond of my nuggets!”

“I'm sure you are.”

By that point, Rafe was practically sprawled across Josh, but the bowl remained just out of his grasp. “What is with you and that bottomless pit you call a stomach?” Josh griped.

“Just a little bit more.” With a final lunge, Rafe plunged his hand into the bowl. “Ah-ha! Success!”

“Happy now?” Josh deadpanned.

“Si,” Rafe replied around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Well, I hate to break this to you, muchacho, but you weigh more than 182. Maybe you should lay off the sweets for a while.”

Pushing himself up so he was now straddling Josh's hips, Rafe gave him a mock frown. “You are a cruel man, Joshua Faraday.”

“And you make a better door than a window,” Josh shot back

Rafe pouted. “You'd rather look at the TV than me, guero? I'm hurt.”

“But it's the best part!” Josh protested.

Maybe it was the slight buzz from the beer he had drank. Maybe it was the slight buzz of being this close to Josh, with his laughing eyes and lethal dimples. Whatever it was, Rafe found himself murmuring, “Yes, it is,” before leaning down for a kiss.

When Josh didn't put up any resistance, Rafe pushed his advantage, wrapping his arms around Josh's neck and running his tongue over the seam of that lush mouth, tasting the lingering saltiness and butter from the popcorn he had consumed. The small moan Josh made did funny things to certain parts of Rafe's body, as did the large hands that were suddenly kneading his ass, and he knew he was on the right track. He pressed himself closer to Josh's chest, and was ready to go in for the kill when suddenly that annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him sternly, _'You're supposed to be going slow, idiota (idiot)!'_

As if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water, Rafe immediately stopped and backed away. “Lo siento, guerito (Sorry, sweetheart),” he pleaded. “I don't know what I was think. . .” But he didn't get any further, as Josh cut off his words with a deep, hungry kiss.

Okay, that was unexpected but certainly not unwelcomed. With a satisfied sigh, Rafe tangled his fingers in those soft auburn curls, and returned the kiss as passionately as Josh was giving it. A kiss as hot as fire and twice as dangerous, with a sweetness to rival any of the abandoned desserts sitting in the kitchen.

It was good, so damn good. But it had been good the other times, too, and Josh had put on the brakes. Twice. Wanting to make sure they were on the same page this time around, Rafe broke the kiss and pulled away with a gasp. “You're not going to stop this time, are you?” He tried to sound serious but it came out a bit more panting and desperate than he had planned.

“Not a chance,” Josh declared, as he cupped Rafe's face and pulled him down for another breathless kiss. Rafe braced his hands on Josh's thick, muscular thighs, and could feel the man's racing heartbeat matching his own where their chests were pressed together. Soon Josh's hands slid from his face to skim down his sides, over his hips and up the back of his shirt, causing goose-bumps along his spine. With great reluctance, Rafe broke the kiss and sat back, giving Josh enough room to tug his tee-shirt over his head and toss it onto the floor. For a moment, Josh just sat and stared at Rafe's chiseled, hair-covered chest, a dazed expression on his handsome face. “Fuck me,” he murmured.

“I've been trying to,” Rafe reminded him, his fingers working on unbuttoning Josh's shirt. “You're the one who wanted to go slow.”

Next thing he knew, he was on his back on the couch, Josh hovering over him, a mischievous twinkle in those bright green eyes. “Oh, I'll go slow, darlin',” Josh leered. “Don't you worry about that.”

Rafe looked up at him, stunned by this surprising turn of events. “What changed your mind?”

“Just takin' your advice and treating myself.”

“It's good advice, yes?” Rafe said, pushing Josh's shirt off his shoulders.

“Damn good advice,” Josh agreed, pulling away just long enough to shed his shirt. As he ran his hands over Rafe's naked chest, he added a teasing, “You know, I'm blowing off my favourite movie for this.”

“I'm honored.”

“You should be.” Foregoing further conversation for action, Josh turned his attention to unbuttoning Rafe's jeans, as their mouths collided for another bruising kiss. They were going at it pretty hot and heavy, and for a moment, Rafe was worried about traumatizing poor Maria if she happened to see them, but then Josh cupped his cock through his jeans and suddenly the little dog was the last thing on his mind.

But just when it seemed that Rafe was FINALLY going to get intimately acquainted with The World's Greatest Lover, the phone rang. “Joder! (Fuck!)” he cursed in frustration. “You have to get that?”

“Answering machine,” Josh shot back immediately, mostly speaking into the space under Rafe’s left ear. He had just managed to unzip Rafe's jeans one-handed, thanks to those dexterous, magical hands, when the machine beeped and an anxious male voice started speaking:

“Josh? You there? Pick up, man. I. . .fuck, I really need you. Josh. . .?”

Josh froze. And then he was off the couch and running for the phone. “It's Red,” he explained. “Sorry. I have to. . .”

Rafe threw an arm over his eyes and fought the urge to scream. _I've never been cock-blocked so many times in my life!_ he thought bitterly, as he waited to see what had been more important than the world class sex they had been heading towards.

“Red? I'm here. What's going on?”

Still splayed out on the sofa, Rafe grabbed the remote and paused the movie as Josh paced around the living room, cordless phone pressed hard to his ear. It was obvious from his agitated tone that he was receiving some bad news, but as Rafe could only hear Josh's side of the conversation, he had no idea what it could be:

“You what?!”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do they want you to stay?”

“Maybe you should stay just. . .”

“No, no. Yeah, sure. I understand. I. . .” He turned and looked over at Rafe, remorse written all over his face, as he sighed and said, “I can be there in a half hour. Just sit tight.”

“Yeah. I know, man. Same here. See ya' soon.” Josh hung his head as he hung up the phone. When he looked up, his expression was similar to Maria's when she broke the lamp.

Rafe sat up and tried to look less debauched and more concerned. “Is everything okay?” he asked, worriedly, as Josh retrieved his shirt from the end of the sofa.

“Red was in a car accident tonight,” Josh told him, a slight tremor in his voice.

Hearing that made Rafe feel ashamed for his initial reaction to their interrupted activities. “Oh, mierda! (shit) Is he all right?”

Pulling the shirt on, Josh replied, “Yeah, just a fender-bender but he was taken to the hospital to be checked out, and he's got a mild concussion. They want to discharge him, but he needs someone to pick him up and watch him tonight.” Shaky fingers fumbled with the buttons before he gave up and sighed heavily. “I'm really sorry, Rafe. He's my best friend, kind of like the brother I never had. He's gotten me out of so many messes over the years and he never asks me for anything and I just. . .”

“Josh, it's okay. . .” Rafe began, but Josh cut him off.

“You can finish the movie if you want, just make sure to lock the door on your way out. There's obviously plenty of food left if you're hungry, but if you have any of the brownies, don't drive, and definitely don't let Maria get into them.” As if realizing what he just said, he let out a low groan. “Oh, God, Maria! I can't leave her alone.” He picked up the phone again, mumbling to himself, “Maybe Goody will take her for the night.”

“Joshua, calm down,” Rafe said, gently, standing up and quickly doing up his jeans. Taking the phone from Josh's limp fingers, he tossed it back onto the couch, then brushed his hands softly over Josh’s chest. Just as gently, he started buttoning his shirt for him. “You don't have to call anyone. I'll stay and watch her.”

“I can't ask you to do that,” Josh insisted.

“You're not asking. I'm offering.” Last button fastened, Rafe gave Josh's shoulder a friendly squeeze. “I don't mind bunking on the sofa tonight. Plus it means I have my choice of sweets for breakfast. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“And. . .you're not mad at me for bailing on you?” Josh asked, incredulously.

Rafe just smiled and shook his head. “Your friend needs you. I'd only be mad if you chose not to help him.”

Josh gave a weak chuckle. “Most guys wouldn't be so understanding, especially after. . .” the words trailed off as he waved at the couch.

Running a comforting hand over Josh's cheek, Rafe said, softly, “I've told you before, guero—I'm not most guys.”

Rafe couldn't quite describe the look on Josh's face, sort of soft, sort of thoughtful, and maybe a little bit disbelieving. But there was a hopeful tone to his voice when he said, “No, you're really not.” He brushed a quick kiss across one of Rafe’s hands as he pledged, “I promise I'm gonna make this up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” Rafe agreed, as an idea suddenly came to him. “What are you doing next weekend?”

Josh shrugged his shoulders. “Um, I dunno? Probably catching a game on TV, pounding a few beers. The usual. Why?”

“I was planning on going up to Rose Creek Stables to see my Maria. There's a little bed and breakfast in town I've always wanted to check out. Maybe you'd like to come with me?”

This time the look on Josh's face was easy to identify. “You want me to meet your horse?” he asked, obviously flabbergasted.

“Well, I met your Maria. You should meet mine, yes?”

“And then stay overnight at an inn together?”

“With breakfast.”

Josh snorted. “Of course you'd be in it for the food.”

“Most important meal of the day. What do you say?”

A big smile crossed Josh's face, and Rafe was happy that he had put it there. “I. . .yeah. I'd like that.”

“Bueno.” Cupping his hand behind Josh's neck, Rafe pulled him in for a lingering good-night kiss.

When Josh pulled away, he sighed, heavily, “Red owes me a big one for this.”

“YOU owe me a big one, too, guerito,” Rafe retorted with a wink.

“Well, you know what they say about a man with a big TV. . .” He flashed a quick flirty grin before turning serious. “I mean it, Rafe. Thank you. For everything.”

“De nada. (you're welcome)” Pressing a final kiss on his cheek, Rafe added, “Gimme a call once you're settled, let me know what's going on.”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“I hope your friend feels better. And thank him for the bread pudding.”

“I'll pass it on.” Josh took a moment to duck into what must've been his bedroom, as he came out carrying his car keys and wallet. Heading towards the front door, he called out, “Don't let Maria on the sofa.”

Rafe looked over his shoulder only to discover Maria was sitting on the sofa's armrest, her nose buried in the bowl of popcorn. “Too late.”

“I'm never gonna get her trained,” Josh muttered as he grabbed his jacket and dashed out of the apartment.

Once Josh was gone, Rafe grabbed his discarded tee-shirt off the floor and pulled it on before flopping onto the sofa. The movement jostled Maria who, noticing that her favourite pillow was back, abandoned her snack to scramble over to him and plop down in his lap once more. Stroking one of her ears, the silky soft fur sliding over his fingers, he sighed, “Guess it's just you and me tonight, pequeña, (little one)” and started up the movie once more.

Oh, well. . .there were worse ways to spend an evening.

THE END


End file.
